


a picture is worth 1000 words || hemingpoe

by youeitherseeitoryoudont



Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party (Web Series)
Genre: George Eliot and Mary Ann Evans are the same person, Kissing, M/M, Mild Internalized Homophobia, Mutual Pining, it's teen because of the one swear and the drinking, mentions of drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27976707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youeitherseeitoryoudont/pseuds/youeitherseeitoryoudont
Summary: 𝘐𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘌𝘥𝘨𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘗𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘐𝘧 𝘌𝘥𝘨𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯.𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴.
Relationships: Edgar Allan Poe/Ernest Hemingway
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	a picture is worth 1000 words || hemingpoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SugarAndMarkers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarAndMarkers/gifts).



He couldn’t ever recall how he got into this situation but frankly, he could care less. With the slight buzz of alcohol clouding his judgement the only person that mattered to Hemingway currently was whoever he had pressed up against the wall.   
  
Kissing an anonymous in a dark room was not his _ideal_ situation to be in but he wasn’t complaining. The somewhat bristly hair of a mustache brushed against Hemingway and god all he could do was hope that he was kissing Ed- Evans. Mary Ann Eliot and her stupid fake mustache because he wasn’t gay right?   
  


A small feeling of disagreement build’s in his gut. _You’re here, kissing someone who is most likely male, and you’re enjoying it, no complaints._

Those thoughts and feelings were quickly brushed aside. He was kissing Mary Ann and there was no doubt about it.  
  
A soft hum into the kiss from his partner snaps Ernest out of his thoughts. It was a low deep hum accompanied with what Ernest could only imagine was a small smile.   
  
A million thoughts rushed through Ernest’s head and for the first time since he’d ended up in this room with an unknown person, he spoke. “You can drop the George Eliot persona you know that right.”   
  
The room went silent. The gathering downstairs could now be heard faintly. Ernest’s gut screamed _please don’t be her please don't be her please don't-_ _  
_ _  
_ The other finally let out an airy breath and whisper, their voice like a feather. “Hemingway.” And he knew that voice all too well. The same shaky voice that haunts his dreams at night for reasons Ernest could never tell. Edgar Allan Poe.   
  
Poe makes a move to leave, pulling himself from the wall. Say something his mind screamed, but no words would come out. Say something, tell him everything, give him 100 words to never forget. But he could not form the words to say it.   
  
So he did the second best thing, he moved. Grabbing Poe’s wrist and pulling him into yet another kiss. If Hemingway could not speak then he would paint Edgar a picture worth more than anything Picasso had ever painted. If Edgar would let his picture in, he would see all that needs to be seen.   
  
After all, a picture is worth a thousand words.

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh!! well i hope you all enjoyed this !! is a a slight mess to write but i had fun !  
> thank you dude for getting me into this series its such a comfort currently. :]


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